


Fat Cat(s)

by Akranes



Series: Corporate Fat Cat Verse [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Body Image, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Feeding, Illnesses, M/M, Marijuana, Mutual Gaining, Power Dynamics, Recreational Drug Use, Size Kink, Specifically anemia, Stoner Keith (Voltron), Stuffing, Weight Gain, Weight Gain Kink, Weight Issues, eating issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25898626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akranes/pseuds/Akranes
Summary: It was only a week or two after their breakfast binge that a pair of pants, that by all rights should’ve fit, didn’t.A month or so ago, he had been pretty sure that he had reached his goal weight. His clothes were fitting in a more familiar way, and he looked more like himself. It had been a nice realization, and something irrational and unthinking in his brain had assumed he’d just stop putting on weight once that happened.Which, now as he was in front of the mirror in a pair of pants that didn’t fit, was maybe the dumbest thing his brain had ever thought. Because that’s not how bodies or metabolisms or calories workat all._Or, Keith discovers he's lost weight and tries to put it back on with Shiro's help. They do a little too well.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Corporate Fat Cat Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879264
Comments: 16
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been almost a year since I posted the first fic in this verse~ I don't think it's necessary to have read [ Corporate Fat Cat ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20246272/chapters/47983807) to understand this, but it's there if you want to.
> 
> I've been wanting to do a follow-up on this for a while (since I feel like I sorta hinted at something and the end of Corporate Fat Cat, and then didn't do anything about it looool)
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual~
> 
> **There's a lot going on in this one, so please read the tags and two blurbs below. Don't say I didn't warn you!**
> 
> In this fic, it's referenced that Keith has some fairly poor eating habits (i.e he doesn't eat very much at all, so if that can be triggering for you, please be aware). For clarity, I don't picture Keith having an eating disorder as his under-eating is essentially unintentional, but he is quite thin and eats very little at the beginning of this fic, and there are some medical professionals that would probably consider his kind of eating to be disordered. I write it fairly lightly, so a warning this heavy is probably overkill, but I'm not interested in upsetting anyone.
> 
> I also don't want to make it seem like it's super easy to change eating habits that have been ingrained. In reality, it can be full of backslides and struggles over years and years. Please remember this is a kink fic at its core, so I have Keith getting used to eating more fairly easily, bc how else can I make him chubby?? But I am well aware this sort of thing is a very real struggle for a lot of people.

It started when Keith began tiring more easily.

At first, it was infrequent enough that Shiro didn’t realize a symptom was manifesting. There had been a handful of days, spread over a month or two, that Keith seemed hardly able to keep awake. He would be fine for a week or two, then have a day where he was just lethargic and unable to shake it, despite naps or coffee.

Slowly, it became more frequent. A few days out of the week, he’d hardly be able to keep his head up. He’d pretend otherwise, that he was fine, but if Shiro asked him to get up off the couch for something it was slow, like he could hardly muster the energy. Shiro swore he looked even more pale than his usual pallid complexion.

Maybe most alarming was his lack of initiating intimacy. His libido was notoriously insatiable, but Shiro was beginning to suspect he just didn’t have the energy these days.

But Keith was Keith, and he insisted he was fine, that he was just stressed with school, or he was tired because he had a bit of a cold. When Shiro suggested a trip to the doctor, Keith just wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

It came to a head when one day, Keith stood a little too quickly from the dining room table. Shiro could practically see his head spinning before his legs gave out completely under him, and he crumpled to the floor.

He looked dazed when Shiro immediately jumped up and scooped him into his arms. _He’s so light_ , Shiro thought, _he's like a paper doll_ , and felt his heart clench uncomfortably.

When the first thing out of Keith’s mouth was, “Oh, god, I’m dizzy,” Shiro called the doctor as soon as he put Keith on the couch and made him an appointment for the next day. Maybe most alarming was the way Keith didn’t protest, just leaned into Shiro as he made the call.

Shiro held him tight all evening, feeling dread in his stomach.

_

The diagnosis turned out to be a relief.

“Anemia?”

The nurse nodded, “That’s what the bloodwork we took this morning indicates. Everything else looks fine, and your symptoms are consistent with it. The doctor will be in to talk more about it, but it’s a treatable condition. The last thing I need from you now is height and weight.”

Keith nodded obediently and looked as relieved as Shiro felt. His heart still broke when he watched Keith slowly rise to his feet and pad over to the scale.

“Looks like 5’10 and a half,” she said, jotting it down before tinkering with the sliding weights.

“And about 121 pounds,” she said neutrally, writing it down. Shiro felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured onto him.

There was some relief to be found in Keith’s similarly shocked face. Shiro might have feared a secret eating disorder or something else terrible otherwise. Keith had always said he was around 140, and even that had sounded thin to Shiro. Maybe when they had first met that was what he weighed, but now, Shiro could see that he definitely was thinner than that. How could he have not noticed earlier? It happened over the course of several years, surely, but still. Guilt rose, hot and biting, in Shiro’s throat. 

The woman told them again that the doctor would be in soon, and left them alone. Keith had sat back down next to Shiro and once she left, he rested his head into Shiro’s chest and wrapped his arm around Shiro’s belly.

“...I didn’t even realize I had lost weight,” Keith mumbled. Shiro carded a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t either. I guess we’ve been paying too much attention to mine,” Shiro said, hoping to make Keith smile.

It worked, barely, as Keith looked up at him with a sad little smile, accompanied by a loving squeeze of his gut. 

They didn’t have time for more conversation before the doctor came in. She was pleasant and helpful, and explained more about anemia before going into the treatment.

“Now, we’re going to get you an iron supplement. I’ll write down what milligram dosage I’d like you to get on. You can get it at any drugstore, and take it three times a day, with food, otherwise you could get a stomach ache. With that, you should start feeling much better.”

She paused before continuing, “Looking at your chart, I see you’ve had a decrease in weight since the last time we’ve seen you. This could be why we’re seeing anemia now; a lot of underweight patients with anemia simply aren’t eating enough for their body to get the amount of iron they need. In addition to the supplement, I’d recommend trying to put on a bit of weight. I can set you up with a nutritionist if you’re interested. If you do decide to put on some weight, come back in six months and we’ll do another blood test to see if we need to adjust your dosage, or even get you off supplements all together.”

Keith nodded soberly. They picked up his iron supplements on the way home.

_

The supplements made a marked improvement.

Within two weeks of the iron supplements being in Keith’s system, he was acting more like himself. More active, more anxiety-ridden. Sassier. Hornier. It was a huge relief. But what the doctor had said about Keith being underweight was still weighing on Shiro’s mind, and they had yet to discuss it.

He brought it up one evening as they were cuddled on the couch, something on TV for ambient noise. Shiro had dinner in the oven, and they were waiting for it to be done and just enjoying each other’s company in the meantime.

“Have you thought about what the doctor said at all?” Shiro asked softly, keeping his hand moving through Keith’s hair.

Keith stirred from where he was laying on Shiro’s soft chest. “About what?” he asked, eyes darting to the side.

“About putting on some weight, baby.”

Keith looked oddly nervous, “Do...you think I should?”

“Well, that was her medical recommendation. I just want you to be healthy and feel good.”

Not to mention Shiro knew Keith didn’t take his morning supplement with food. Breakfast wasn’t really in Keith’s vocabulary, and Shiro had gotten him to admit that _yes_ , sometimes he did end up with a stomach ache afterwards.

It grated at Shiro’s nerves, knowing that Keith was still suffering from something preventable like a stomachache. If Shiro could just get him to eat more regularly, he’d feel much more at peace.

“I feel good now,” Keith said easily, resting his head back on Shiro’s chest. Shiro let him, huffing amusedly, but he wasn’t quite done with this conversation.

“I know. It’s okay if you don’t want to, but then I think we should try and make sure you don’t lose any more,” he said, carding a hand through Keith’s hair. He felt stupidly hypocritical anyways, fretting about Keith being underweight, when he himself was only getting more and more overweight by the day.

He was glad Keith didn’t call him out for it.

Keith huffed, still looking down, “I just don’t get that hungry. It’s not like I’m _trying_ to not eat.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Shiro said. It was undoubtedly true; the whole time Shiro had known Keith, he’d eaten like a bird, just picking at stuff when he felt like it. Which wasn’t particularly often unless Shiro sat him down for a proper meal.

“We can set reminders for you, if you want? An alert that goes off every few hours to remind you to eat something?”

Keith frowned like he didn’t like the sound of that.

“Or I can just make you eat something every time I do,” Shiro joked.

That made Keith giggle, “You’d pop me like a balloon.”

They both laughed and when their laughter died down, Keith sobered and said, “I guess...I’d like to be where I was. Like, 140 or so.”

So, around twenty pounds. Shiro couldn’t help but think their comparison was funny, because Shiro would probably put on another twenty pounds by autumn, whether he really wanted to or not.

“I think that’s a good plan, baby,” Shiro praised, kissing the top of his head. He craned his neck back to recieve a better kiss on the lips.

_

Keith had vetoed seeing a nutritionist, which wasn’t surprising, but that left it up to Shiro to make sure he was eating enough.

Honestly? Shiro didn’t mind at all. Not even close. The opposite, really.

Keith had admitted to only usually eating one meal a day; the dinners that Shiro would make for both of them. He’d skip breakfast completely, rolling out of bed after Shiro had already left for the day, then grab a granola bar from the Starbucks at his college or a muffin from the coffee shop he worked at, and take his midday supplement with it. Otherwise, he subsisted off coffees in between.

Keith had worried his lip, looking guilty as he said it, “Fuck, that sounds so bad out loud. It never felt that bad, but…”

It still made Shiro feel sick with guilt that he never noticed, but he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he had smiled reassuringly at Keith and pulled him in for a hug and said, “Hey, we’re working on it. It doesn’t matter now if it was bad or not: that’s not how it’s gonna be anymore.”

So now, when Shiro made breakfast for himself, he’d make plenty so Keith would have more than enough to eat when he rose. They only typically shared mornings together on weekends, so usually Shiro just left Keith’s food under a cloche on the counter.

(Keith had laughed out loud the first time he saw it, objecting immediately and calling it ‘bougie,’ but Shiro kept using it, since it was the only good way to keep the food nice and warm while Keith was still sleeping.)

He also prepared lunches for Keith, usually little more than a sandwich or a serving of last night’s dinner (provided Shiro actually left any), with some fruit and veggies, and something sweet like a brownie or a cookie. Keith had a sweet tooth, so he knew that was getting eaten at the very least.

Keith had, of course, protested when Shiro took it upon himself to prepare these meals for Keith, saying he could do it himself. But really, beyond the fact that Shiro didn’t mind, he was already preparing all this food for himself, too. Adding an extra few servings took up nearly no time at all.

Admittedly, there was something very care-giving about it that Shiro enjoyed hugely, and it wasn’t exactly a secret that he loved taking care of Keith.

He figured it would be a long while before they saw any sort of actual difference in Keith’s body, but that was fine. Just knowing that he was eating much better was a huge weight off Shiro’s shoulders.

_

It took a few rough months of adjusting, but eventually eating regularly became routine. After over six months since the initial doctor’s appointment, Keith could proudly say he hardly even thought about it anymore.

It had been embarrassingly hard at first to eat everything Shiro gave him for each meal at first. Frankly, Keith hadn’t consistently eaten breakfast since he was probably 15. Even if Shiro didn’t leave him much (at the beginning it was usually just an egg or two and a few pieces of bacon or some toast), it had been hard to muster enough appetite to finish it all. The food was always _good_ and Shiro was obviously concerned, so most days, Keith managed to clear his plate.

It was much easier on days when he had the ability to wake and bake. Usually he decided not to if he had an early shift or class, but if he had some extra time in the morning? He found that packing a little bowl and smoking while enjoying breakfast on the balcony was an excellent way to start his morning. On a few such mornings, Keith sometimes found himself wishing Shiro had left him a little more. Sometimes he even snacked on whatever he’d find in the cabinets or fridge.

Lunch tended to be a little easier, and he found that if he ate while he worked or while he streamed something, he could finish whatever Shiro packed him without much struggle.

These days, Keith mostly forgot all about actively trying to eat more. Instead, eating three square meals had successfully become his new normal. Clearing a plate Shiro set in front of him wasn’t a problem anymore, and he had noticed he was being left a little more for breakfast and getting an extra cookie with his lunches. Shiro probably noticed before Keith that his appetite had finally picked up a little, and frankly, Keith was proud. There had been plenty of days early on where he just didn’t feel like eating, then felt frustrated and annoyed for not feeling like eating. He came close on more than one occasion to throwing out his breakfast or lunch and just telling Shiro he ate them.

Now, Keith felt guilty just for having had the thought. He _finally_ had a healthy appetite, and he was honestly pretty proud of it. He had worked hard for it.

One thing was consistent, though; he could eat way more if he was high.

He had smoked before dinner tonight, and was, frankly, wolfing down his dinner. Shiro was a talented cook by any means, but he had outdone himself. Or maybe the weed was just really good. It didn’t matter. Keith was just _hungry_.

Shiro had started up a little herb garden recently, and he had made fresh pesto with the basil and tossed it with pasta, tomatoes, little balls of mozzarella and peppers.

It was oily and carb heavy to be sure, and Keith was giddy when he thought of the effects it would have on Shiro’s waistline.

Of course, he didn’t really think about it having an impact on himself. He had never had to think like that before.

Keith refilled his plate, earning a look of surprise from Shiro. The bigger man had given Keith a good sized portion, even by his standards, and obviously hadn’t anticipated Keith wanting even more.

But, the look of surprise was easily replaced with one of pleasure and pride. He smiled softly at Keith and said, “I’m glad you like it. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “I can eat a lot more than I used to.”

Shiro’s grin widened, “I know,” he said easily, standing up from the table to get himself another beer, but pausing behind Keith to press a kiss to his temple and brush a hand soothingly over his stomach. He was already a little bloated from the carbs, and his stomach looked suspiciously like a little belly, pressed up roundly against the front of his shirt.

Shiro’s hand lingered only for a moment before he was on his way to the fridge again, and Keith continued eating.

_

Keith had vaguely noticed the changes in his body. He figured he must be around his goal of putting those 20 or so pounds back on. His belts had to be done a notch or two looser, and some pants and shirts were getting a little tight and clingy. It was easy to write them off to having been bought when he was a bit too thin.

He noticed his cheeks weren’t so hollow anymore, and he couldn’t see his ribs without raising his arms overhead and there weren’t any more concerning, jutting bones around his hips or clavicle. That was the goal, as far as Keith was concerned, and Shiro couldn’t seem to keep his hands off him lately, so he figured that was all good stuff.

Shortly after he had weighed in at 121, he had taken a long look at himself in the mirror. Even he had to admit that he looked too skinny. So this was refreshing. He felt better, and he thought like he looked better, too.

It was a Sunday morning, and Shiro had joined him on the balcony for a little wake and bake. Shiro didn’t smoke very often, but when he did, all he ever wanted to do was eat. It was kind of adorable. So when they got inside, he went into a whirlwind cooking frenzy and whipped up an enormous breakfast spread for the two of them. There were waffles loaded with butter and syrup and blackberry compote (made from scratch, because Shiro really was something else), a whole pan loaded with hashbrowns dressed up with onions, peppers and cheese, quiche with spinach, bacon, mushrooms and cheese (he had apparently gotten that prepared the night before, but had since decided it wouldn’t be enough), and a pan of cinnamon rolls covered in glaze.

Keith had helped cook, thank you very much, but mostly Shiro just directed him around the kitchen, giving him easy tasks that were still helpful, like cutting veggies or cleaning pots and pans. The air was warm and cozy as they laughed through the kitchen, saying things to each other like, “This is way too much food!” or, “How are we going to finish all this?” as they continued making all of it, or giggling to each other when one of their stomachs growled.

Shiro came behind him as he was washing dishes and gave the skin at his hip a pinch. Keith squeaked in surprise before turning around, sticking his tongue out and grabbing hold of one of Shiro’s thick love handles, giving it a wobble. Shiro’s weight gain had slowed a bit lately, but it was still on a slow rise and the last time they checked, he was sitting at around 270. His heavy gut bounced behind his snug apron and Keith licked his lips.

Shiro tugged him closer for a quick kiss, smiling through it, before moving to take the quiche out of the oven.

When they laid the spread out on the table, it looked like even more food. By this point they were high, tired from cooking, and beyond famished, and when they sat to eat it was practically graphic. It wasn’t often Keith was so involved with eating that he didn’t take time to watch Shiro eat, but this was one such occasion.

Everything was so delicious and warm, and hit the spot so thoroughly that Keith just kept grabbing more and more food to refill his plate. How many slices of quiche had he already eaten? How many waffles, how many cinnamon rolls? He had no idea. But it wasn’t enough yet.

Keith spared Shiro a glance now, as he put more hash browns, another waffle and two more cinnamon rolls onto his plate. He was in a similar frenzy, one that sent warmth down into Keith’s lower stomach. He could see his jaw working past his salt and pepper beard as he consumed bite after bite.

Shiro caught his eye and grinned. Keith grinned back.

“We should do this more often,” Keith said, taking a bite of hash browns and breaking the comfortable silence.

Shiro swallowed a bite of food, smiling mischievously, “Get high and binge on breakfast food?”

Something fluttered in Keith’s chest. This _was_ a binge. He hadn’t ever _binged_ before. 

Not on food, anyway.

He kinda liked it.

So he nodded, “Yeah. This fucking rocks. Cooking was fun, too.”

Something soft came into Shiro’s eyes, “We’ll do it more often, then.”

They refocused on eating, and Keith absently felt himself starting to get pretty full. Not full enough to stop, though. Not yet.

The food was, almost shockingly, diminishing fast. Keith pulled the last slice of quiche onto his plate, one of the two remaining waffles and half of what was left of the hash browns, which equated to a nice, big serving.

Shiro observed the carcass of the binge with a hum, taking the other waffle, the rest of the hash browns and two of the three remaining cinnamon rolls. He nudged the last one towards Keith.

“You may as well finish it,” Shiro said.

Keith nodded, mouth too full of quiche to respond and pulled it onto his plate. He had been feeling a little overfull, but his feeding frenzy returned anew when he saw how close they were to finishing all that food. He was sure Shiro had done most of it, but surely he had helped considerably. He could definitely clear this one last plate.

When he chewed and swallowed the last bite, he let his fork fall to his plate with a clatter. “Fuck,” he said, breathily.

He heard Shiro chuckle, and looked up to see the man watching him intently. His own plate was already clear, so he had been watching Keith for who knows how long. Keith squirmed, but was surprised at how little he could move around, feeling pinned under his own stupidly bloated middle.

Shiro rose from his seat, looking decidedly bloated as well, and began to gather the dishes. Keith wanted to help, but he tried to sit up a little more and felt a sharp pang go through his stomach with a wince. It’s possible he had gone a little too far.

Shiro didn’t seem to notice. He stepped closer to where Keith was sitting, pinned by his bloated tummy, and swiped his cheek with the pad of his thumb, producing a bit of icing from the cinnamon rolls. He offered it to Keith.

Despite the slow dawning realization that he was unsure if he could even _stand_ because he was so fucking full, he sucked on Shiro’s thumb without an ounce of hesitation.

Shiro chuckled again, removing his thumb from Keith’s mouth, who had been sucking hard enough that it created a lewd ‘pop!’. But even swallowing that little bit of icing had Keith’s stomach aching in protest, and Keith screwed his eyes shut and said, “Fuck,” again.  
Now Shiro cackled, taking some dishes into the kitchen. “I’ve never seen you eat so well, baby,” he called from the other room.

Keith didn’t respond, but he brought a tentative hand to his stomach. It looked stupidly huge, at least compared to what it normally looked like. His usually flat middle bowed out from his ribcage, round and taut and looking more like a true belly than Keith had ever seen on himself. He placed a hand over it and winced again. Between the high fading, and the feeding frenzy dissipating, it was starting to seriously hurt.

He burped softly as Shiro reentered the room. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over the bulge of his gut and regarding Keith amusedly.

Keith looked at him with wide eyes, and released another quiet burp into his fist, and groaned.

Shiro’s smile softened, stepping closer, “You really did a number on yourself, huh, sweetheart?” Shiro dropped a hand to Keith’s bulging little belly, and Keith groaned again. Shiro’s hand felt way better than his own, which he then let fall to his side.

Shiro kept rubbing his belly and Keith moaned, “‘M so full. So fucking full. Fuck.”

Shiro pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, “Let’s go lay down, baby.”

Keith nodded, scooching to the edge of his chair. But when he leaned forward to actually get his legs under him, his stomach cramped harshly again, and he wrapped his arms around himself, whimpering.

Shiro was looking at him with wide eyes. “You- you can’t-”

It was rare that Shiro was lost for words, and maybe Keith would’ve appreciated it more if he wasn’t aching, embarrassed, and apparently trapped by his own gluttony.

Instead he whined, “Daddy,” high and needy, hopefully prompting Shiro to take a little more pity on him. It worked and Shiro was spurred into action, plucking Keith up from the chair easily, but an amused smile was back on his face.

He laid Keith flat on the bed, and Keith was relieved to find that it helped, at least a little. His tummy still bowed up, tight as a drum, and Shiro laid on his side next to him, gently caressing the curve.

“Why aren’t you like this?” Keith grumbled testily, gesturing to his middle. He had seen Shiro get plenty achy and sore after overeating plenty of times, but very few that he wasn’t even able to get up afterwards.

Shiro chuckled fondly, “I think your eyes were a little bigger than your stomach, baby. I’ve got a lot more experience at this. So it was easier for me to eat half of all that than you.”

Shiro’s words had him confused, “Half?” Keith questioned.

Shiro’s brow furrowed, obviously not understanding why Keith was confused. 

Keith fought the urge to scoff, “You had more than half of that.”

Shiro looked pensive. “Maybe a little, I suppose. But I’d say about half.”

Keith was staring at him intently, and Shiro furrowed his brow and said, “What?”

“There’s no way I ate half of all that.”

Understanding dawned in Shiro’s eyes, and with it, another flicker of amusement that had Keith bristling. “Well, baby, I think it kind of explains your current situation.”

“You just weren’t paying attention.”

“I’m starting to think I was paying a lot more attention than you.”

Keith glared at him and Shiro shuffled closer so he could kiss the indignant look off his face. Keith let him, reluctantly.

_

It was only a week or two after their breakfast binge that a pair of pants, that by all rights should’ve fit, didn’t.

A month or so ago, he had been pretty sure that he had reached his goal weight. His clothes were fitting in a more familiar way, and he looked more like himself. It had been a nice realization, and something irrational and unthinking in his brain had assumed he’d just stop putting on weight once that happened.

Which, now as he was in front of the mirror in a pair of pants that didn’t fit, was maybe the dumbest thing his brain had ever thought. Because that’s not how bodies or metabolisms or calories work _at all_. 

It was easy to realize now that he would’ve had to dial it back a little to stop gaining weight. But, instead, he’d continued eating with reckless abandon.

Maybe somewhere reasonable in his mind, he knew that this would happen, but he’d been having too much fun with food lately. He was starting to understand how plenty of people, like Shiro, just loved eating. It was _satisfying_ , truly eating your fill. _Over_ eating. Snacking. Indulging. Somewhere it transitioned out of a chore, blown right past being a routine, and turned into a hobby. Keith wasn’t sure he could put it back.

He wasn’t really sure he wanted to.

But, either way, he had a problem. He had put on too much weight, that much was easy to see.

His midsection looked positively squidgy and Keith couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed sooner. It still wasn’t even enough to call a belly, but it was certainly soft and plush, with the hint of a convex curve. The once visible bones of his ribs and hips were completely obscured, and the bones that were still visible like his collarbone and shoulder blades were far more padded than they had ever been.

He tugged the button of his black jeans, trying once more to button them, and watched his reflection with horror as he saw the way the pudge of his middle pushed over the too tight waistband, creating a little muffin top. And, still, he failed once more to close them, anyways.

Keith made a loud, frustrated sound. He remembered distinctly maybe two or three months earlier, when he couldn’t quite squeeze into a different pair of jeans, and found they were in a smaller size than most of his other jeans. He then took a minute and categorized his clothes, putting the smaller ones, from his more underweight size, in one drawer, and all the rest in another. These were from the drawer that should’ve fit. He had worn them for sure just a few weeks ago, and they had worked fine.

Embarrassment and something else prickled at the back of his neck as he shoved the jeans back down his hips and thighs.

Shiro rounded the corner as Keith was pulling them off his ankles. He surveyed Keith’s boxer clad form with an obviously pleased eye.

“Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard you a minute ago.”

“ _No_ ,” Keith snapped, huffing, feeling vulnerable in a way his mind familiarly insisted he compensate for with his attitude.

Shiro’s eyes were patient, like usual, and he stepped closer as Keith kicked his jeans across the bathroom floor.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Shiro said, voice low and soothing as a hand reached across his padded hip. Keith glared at it, and squirmed away from Shiro.

“I’ve put on too much weight,” he grumbled, knowing Shiro wouldn’t let up until he was honest and holding his arms out for Shiro to take a good look. Shiro raised an eyebrow, which only spurred Keith on more, “Look at me! I’m- I’m all pudgy,” he finished, crossing his arms over himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Shiro said, voice comforting and sympathetic, “You always have been and you always will be the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Some pudge doesn’t change that. The _barest bit_ of pudge, I might add.”

Shiro reached for him again and Keith allowed it this time, still blushing and squirming even as Shiro tucked him into his own well-padded, warm and soft chest. Keith felt himself calm down involuntarily, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s width and pawing at the heavy rolls at his sides.

Still, “Why didn’t you say anything?” Keith whined, voice muffled by Shiro’s pecs.

“There was nothing to say.”

Keith pulled his head back to look at Shiro dryly, only to be met with a look of mild worry.

Shiro’s voice was soft as he said, “Honestly, I didn’t notice until recently that you’re probably a little heavier than your goal. But baby, you had gotten...really thin. I was worried. If you want to cut back a little, that’s fine, of course. Just promise me you’ll keep eating enough?”

Keith felt his heart break. He had seen that flicker of worry behind Shiro’s eyes back then, but he never said it so plainly before. Keith didn’t know what to say.

It didn’t matter, because he kept going, “But if you want to know what I think, baby, you’re _stunning_ like this. You look so healthy. And I like eating with you. _Really_ eating with you. It’s kind of hot,” Shiro said, eyes turning a little devilish and teasing.

Keith knew he meant their little binge, obviously. And Keith would be a liar if he said he didn’t like it, too. He had loved eating recently, but seeing it reflected on his body like this was just so new. Extra weight taking space on his body was new.

Keith still didn’t say anything. He just nestled himself deeper into Shiro, tracing the few stretch marks on his hips.

After a few moments of Keith’s silence, Shiro said, “You can go back to the doctor if you want. I’m sure she’d tell you that you’re healthier than ever.”

Shiro had made some excellent points and Keith huffed against Shiro’s chest. “My pants don’t fit,” he complained petulantly.

Shiro’s tone was fond, “We’ll get you new pants.”

_

Shiro heard Keith enter the apartment from where he stood dicing vegetables for dinner. He had yelled a welcome home, but Keith hadn’t responded.

Then he heard telltale footsteps approaching, and the sound of paper being slapped onto the counter.

He looked over his shoulder to see Keith, a hand on his hip and a pout on his lip. He couldn’t help smirking and repeating what he had called when Keith entered, “Welcome home. How was the doctor?” he asked, unbelieving that it had gone poorly, despite Keith’s entrance, “How are your iron levels?”

Keith waved his hand in the air dismissively, “Oh, they’re better, we’re reducing my dosage. That’s not important. _Look_ ,” he insisted, showing Shiro the paper.

It was a summary of the appointment, and in a big box at the top of the paper, it had Keith’s basic information: his age (25), blood pressure (108/70), height (5’10.5) and weight (153 lbs).

Shiro’s chest felt warm at the information. He knew which piece of the puzzle Keith was ruffled by, but still couldn’t resist playing dumb.

He pointed to where his BMI proudly stated a ‘normal’ 21.6. “Look at that, baby,” he cooed, wrapping a hand around Keith’s waist and feeling a thrill at the tiny soft layer there, “A normal, healthy BMI.”

Keith’s frown didn’t budge, “I’ve put on over _thirty_ pounds, Shiro! Thirty!”

It did sound like a lot when Keith said it like that, so Shiro reminded him, “If you can put on thirty-two pounds and have a healthy BMI, I think that says a lot.”

Keith sniffed, “BMI is flawed as a metric, it isn’t a good indicator of anything anyways.”

“No, I suppose not,” Shiro mused, ”Pretty sure mine’s in the ‘obese’ range, by the way.”

Keith’s reaction was immediate: his blush was deep, and his eyes immediately darted down to where Shiro’s belly was hanging over the waistband of his jeans.

“Jesus. Really? You’re not- I mean, you’re not _that_ big.”

Shiro snorted (he _was_ that big, by any means), happy to let Keith distract himself as he slid closer to step into Shiro’s space, wrapping his still skinny arms around Shiro’s waist.

Shiro was more than happy to return the favor. His own hand went a step further, even though he knew it was risky, and slipped under the hem of Keith’s shirt to stroke his bare hip.

Keith’s reaction was predictably conflicted as he squirmed in Shiro’s grasp, but really only squirmed _closer_ , and looked down at his shoes.

“I’m heavier than I’ve ever been,” Keith said, voice hushed and shy, leaning into Shiro. It was times like these that Shiro could tell he was heavier, with all his weight leaning against him. He wasn't truly heavy, not by a long shot, but he could tell there was more weight pressed against him than before.

“It will take time to adjust,” Shiro said, “Are you unhappy at this weight?”

Keith’s eyes were vulnerable. “No, I just…,” he trailed off before making a frustrated sound. “Ugh, I like to eat now.”

Shiro blinked. “Okay…?”

“But _that’s_ the problem!”

Shiro shook his head, “It’s okay to enjoy eating, Keith. That’s not a problem.”

“It _is_ ,” Keith insisted, stepping back and looking distressed again, “I don’t want to cut back. I don’t want to eat less. I like eating!”

“But you don’t want to gain more weight?”

Keith crossed his arms, looking at Shiro dryly, “What part of ‘size kink’ is unclear? If I just keep eating like I’m eating, I’ll gain more weight, and it’ll ruin our dynamic if I’m _fat_!”

Shiro held up his hands, “Slow down there, baby. Nothing’s going to ruin our dynamic, okay? Take a look at me, honey. In case you forgot, I’m putting weight on, too. And I think I’ve got a bit of a head start.”

Keith wore his vulnerability more clearly now. He looked Shiro up and down and then looked at his feet and muttered, “I dunno. I’m closing the gap already. Last time we weighed you, you were 271. I’m 153. You, like, barely have 100 pounds on me anymore.”

“Baby, that’s still almost 120 pounds. There was a time when the difference was only 50,” Shiro reminded him, “Did we have any issues in bed then?”

Keith finally deflated, “No.”

Shiro stepped closer and kissed him. He felt Keith sag into it.

“It’s okay to have complicated feelings about this,” Shiro said, “and if anyone understands that, it’s me. But just know that I think you’re sexy. I think the weight’s sexy.”

Keith snorted into his chest, “That’s _my_ thing, you’re not supposed to think that _my_ fat is sexy.”

“So you can think it’s sexy on me but I can’t think it’s sexy on you?”

“Yes,” Keith said easily, looking up at Shiro with those big, innocent eyes, “It’s different on you.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, smiling and laughing, “How so?”

“It just _is_.”

“Y’know, you could start exercising, too, if you wanted.”

Keith made a disgusted sound and Shiro laughed loudly.

“Alright, point taken,” Shiro said, still chuckling.

_

“I’m just going to cut back a _little_ ,” Keith announced that evening, climbing into bed, “Stop snacking so much, maybe.”

He was in a big t-shirt of Shiro’s and a pair of boxers. The shirt was like a tent on him, so it was abundantly easy for Shiro to get his hands underneath it.

He didn’t have a plan as to where his hands were going to wander, but they seemed attracted to Keith’s budding tummy, drawn there like a magnet. It had a faint outward curve, and when he was laying down like he was now, it was deemphasized to be barely anything. It was infinitely more interesting when he was sitting down and his little tummy would pooch outwards, or when he was wearing pants that were a little too snug and his blossoming love handles poked over his waistband.

But even subtle as it was now, it was nice. He was a little bloated, maybe, from dinner. His stomach was warm and a little firm. Yeah, definitely full from dinner.

Keith squirmed a little under his hand so Shiro pulled him closer, tucking him into his chest. His own belly bowed up, round and in the way, but Keith didn’t seem to mind and he draped a hand over it. Shiro’s hand began rubbing the flesh of Keith’s hip.

“Are you listening to me?” Keith asked.

“Yes. That’s fine baby, do whatever you want.”

Shiro’s eyes were adjusting to the dark, so he saw the way Keith looked up at him with a pout.

“So you’ll probably have to stop buying so many snacks,” he said.

Shiro grumbled, “I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re not the only snacker in this house.” He wasn’t particularly interested in giving up his own snacks. “I can hide them from you?”

Keith snorted, “No, that’s silly. Nevermind, it’s fine, buy whatever you want. I have self control.”

Shiro’s mind wandered to the day Keith ate so much he could hardly stand. 

Or, really, any of the times Keith had eaten so much he was visibly bloated and in need of a belly rub.

“Okay,” Shiro said, not seeing the point in being contrary, “Do you still want me to make you breakfasts and lunches?”

Keith gave him a defensive look, “Well, _yeah_ , unless you’d prefer me to skip those meals again.”

Shiro huffed a laugh, “Relax, baby, you know that’s not what I meant.”

Keith grumbled something grumpy into Shiro’s chest. Shiro’s hand left his hip, where it was toying with the small layer of flesh that had settled there, to grasp at Keith’s behind. He’s always had a nice ass, if maybe a little small. But now, as Shiro grabbed at it with his fingers, it had a nice give. It had _bounce_. His hands drifted down a little further, running his hands over where his thighs met his ass. There, too, he was getting plush and sturdy.

Keith squirmed next to him, and made a little sound that was definitely _not_ grumpy. Shiro smiled to himself and said, “You feel good.”

“I feel chubby.”

Shiro hummed, “A little thicker, yes, but not chubby,” he said gently.

Keith made a sound of dissent, one that was cut off abruptly as Shiro got his hand into the waistband of Keith’s boxers and his fingers slipped between his cheeks.

He felt the way Keith gripped him tighter, like he wanted Shiro even closer even though he was already practically laying on him. “D-Daddy…” Keith said, breathy.

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's some smut here, you've been warned~

Keith’s not-a-diet was starting today. 

Actually calling it a diet seemed too rigid, too structured and limiting. And it’s not like it was a big deal, anyways.

That morning, he decided he’d leave a little of whatever Shiro left him for breakfast on his plate. Shiro always ate large portions, and more recently, he had begun leaving sizable portions for Keith, too. Keith had been finishing them happily, but now he had realized that it was definitely more than one person really needed for breakfast.

Shiro had left him three fluffy banana pancakes, scrambled eggs and a few slices of bacon. There had been a sticky note on the cloche that read: _There’s syrup in the cabinet and whipped cream in the fridge. Hope you have a great day. I love you._

Besides feeling a familiar rush of warmth, of _love_ , Keith was already stricken. Whipped cream was excessive, surely. He shouldn’t.

But, after warring with himself for only a moment, he did. Generously. The food was delicious, as usual, and he got so caught up in enjoying it that he didn’t even remember that he wasn’t supposed to finish all of it until it was gone.

He went to Allura’s shortly after to study. Both his and Allura’s second to last semester were halfway done. He had a shift at the coffee shop in the afternoon, but no classes that day so he had all morning free.

They had been laying in her bed, Keith on his laptop and Allura thumbing through the pages of a textbook. Allura was also in the process of making apple cinnamon muffins, to Keith’s chagrin. 

“No, thanks,” Keith told her when she got them out of the oven, “I already had breakfast.”

She pouted at him, and Keith felt immediately weak to her wide, sad eyes. Was this how Shiro felt? He always said Keith’s puppy eyes were unfair. 

“You don’t even want to try them? I’ve gotten better at baking, these won’t be like the cupcakes, I swear!”

“I- ugh, I’m trying not to...snack so much.”

Allura looked at him blankly. “Am I missing something?” she asked, “I thought you were trying to put on weight.”

Keith felt himself blush, “Yeah, but that was before- look, you must’ve noticed that I’m getting a little soft.”

Allura laughed, then cut off at Keith’s glare. “Wait, you’re serious?” She looked him up and down. Her brow was furrowed and she sighed and shrugged, “I mean, I know you’ve put on weight, but I don’t think I’d call you _soft_. You look good now. Not so much like a strong wind could topple you over.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed and he pulled up the hem of his loose band tee so she could see the way his puffy tummy pooched outwards, filling out the waistband of his new jeans.

Allura’s eyes widened in genuine surprise, and that gave Keith some relief. He was glad the weight wasn’t too noticeable when he was clothed, then.

Then a wide grin split across her face as she cooed, “Cute!” and reached forward to give his tummy pudge a pinch.

“Hey! Cut it out!” Keith sputtered, shooing her hands away and tugging his shirt back down. “You and Shiro just want me to be fat.”

Allura’s eyes were glimmering with playfulness, “Ooh, I bet Shiro _loves_ your little tummy. I can’t believe he actually managed to feed you up! You’ve been supermodel skinny for years.”

At Keith’s frown, Allura amended, “Like _potentially problematic_ supermodel skinny. Honestly, you look healthier like this, Keith, sue Shiro and I for caring about your well being.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “Which is why I’m not really planning on losing the weight. I’d just like to keep from gaining any _more_.”

Allura had a pout on again, but said, “That’s fair.” She looked back at her tin of muffins, “But you’re really not even going to try _one_?”

Keith bit his lip. He supposed one wouldn’t hurt. After all, it was good to be supportive of a friend’s hobbies.

Allura ended up having to take the muffins out of the room. After Keith helped himself to a fourth, she wrapped the rest up and said she didn’t want to hear it from him later that she had ruined his diet.

Keith had then insisted it, in fact, was _not_ a diet, but he didn’t stop her from taking the muffins away. It was for the best.

Then he went to work, where the first thing he did was make himself a latte. He used skim milk, though, and sugar free sweeteners, so he figured that wasn’t so bad.

Likely thanks to the muffins, he made it to lunch without feeling particularly hungry. That day, Shiro had packed him a big sandwich, piled high with both turkey and ham, pepper jack cheese, tomatoes, onions, lettuce and spicy mustard. He had also cut up some strawberries, and included a chocolate chip cookie.

Shiro always packed him dessert with his lunches, but recently Keith had been receiving two cookies, or two brownies, or two whatever Shiro decided to pack him on any given day. The decrease back to one was obviously out of respect for his not-a-diet. He should be grateful, but all he felt was bereft.

As his day wore on, he made himself another coffee, but he forgot to use skim milk by the time he had already steamed the whole milk, so he just used it, figuring that was better than pouring it out and being wasteful.

He also pointedly ignored how much tastier this latte was compared to the last.

When his snacking habit had first begun taking shape, work had become one of his favorite places to munch. They had plenty of baked goods in the little coffee shop, and most of them were pretty good. And if stuff didn’t sell by a certain date or time, the employees were able to help themselves.

Keith hadn’t snacked on anything for his shift so far, and his tummy was finally protesting, grumbling softly under his apron. He annoyedly remembered how big that sandwich had looked and how easy it had gone down. He only had an hour left, and Shiro would probably have dinner waiting for him once he got home. He didn’t need anything. He’d eat soon enough.

But, the only coworker sharing his shift was diabetic, so he rarely had any of their baked goods. When a lone bear claw with chocolate drizzle was set to be thrown away, Keith couldn’t help but rescue it.

It was just _one_ , though. He resisted later when a few lemon tarts had to get thrown away. So maybe the bear claw had been pretty big, but it was just _one_.

All the same, as Keith hung up his apron at the end of the shift, he was under no illusion that he had done well on cutting back that day. He swore to do better tomorrow.

_

He did not do better tomorrow. Or the day after that, or after that.

It was _hard_. Not helping himself to the snacks Lance and Hunk set out when he went over to smoke and play video games was hard. Not letting himself eat his fill at the delicious meals Shiro slaved over was hard. Avoiding munching at work was hard. Avoiding munching at _home_ was hard.

It had been two months, and some days he was actually successful, but most, he was not. The frustration was starting to give way to resignation.

Today was a Sunday, and Keith hadn’t picked up any shifts, so they both had the day off. Shiro had gone to the gym after breakfast, so Keith wandered out to the patio to enjoy the late morning sun and smoke a joint.

He wandered back into the apartment and his feet led him into the kitchen. It wasn’t long ago that they had breakfast, but still, his mouth was begging for something to munch on. He managed to refrain from snacking too much in Shiro’s presence, mostly out of embarrassment that he was doing the exact _opposite_ of what he told the man he was planning to do.

He was in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He had the sweatpants slung low on his hips, but even so the waistband had begun feeling a little tight, and it was snug around his ass and thighs when he bent over or sat down. The t-shirt was snug too, clinging to his tummy and making it look rounder than it really was. If he had thought about it, it probably would’ve been smarter to just wear one of Shiro’s, like he’d been doing with increasing frequency anyway.

He opened the cabinets and found the snacks on one of the higher shelves, a little out of his reach. Shiro hadn’t hidden the snacks from him, like Keith told him not to, but after a few weeks Shiro had _certainly_ noticed that Keith was still eating them, too, and his response had been to put them up on the highest shelf. One Shiro could reach relatively easily but Keith could barely.

It should’ve been enough to discourage him from snacking, his partner’s subtle attempts to aid in his not-a-diet, but it wasn’t.

Keith stood on his tippy toes, and reached an arm out. There was a pack of oreos that were calling his name, and his fingers were juuust about to make contact with the corner of the package when he felt a pinch to his tummy.

Keith squeaked in surprise and jumped away, only to bump up against Shiro’s gut. He looked up at Shiro, and he was grinning at him, mischief in his eyes.

Keith blushed hard at getting caught so redhandedly, and noticed his shirt had stayed rucked up, caught on the crest of his fairly small but very obvious belly, still revealing the lower portion of his stomach. He quickly reached down and tugged it back into place, and ignored the squirmy feeling that was mixing with his embarrassment.

“I didn’t hear you get back,” Keith said, trying to talk about anything but the obvious.

Shiro was still grinning, “You were still on the patio. I was getting ready to hop in the shower when I heard you come back inside.”

The last vestiges of sweat were still clinging to Shiro’s brow, and he was shirtless, his full, heavy belly on display.

Keith wasn’t sure what to say, but Shiro began moving, and reached around him, procured the package of oreos, and handed it to Keith.

Keith sighed, placing them on the counter. “I shouldn’t.”

Shiro made a little sound, one that sounded vaguely like a disagreement. He stepped closer to Keith and raised a big hand to rest over his stomach. He rubbed back and forth and gave Keith a kiss on his cheek. Despite himself, Keith felt soothed.

“Come shower with me instead, then.”

Keith eyed Shiro up and down, eyes lingering over his belly, and nodded. Shiro would give him something better to do with his mouth, anyways.

They walked to the bathroom and Keith began to strip, somewhat self-consciously aware of Shiro’s eyes on him.

When he was completely naked, Shiro was still staring shamelessly. He was also naked now, and Keith saw that he was sporting a semi. He looked up at Keith’s eyes, and Keith was surprised at the earnestness in them.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro said, hushed.

It had Keith blushing and smiling. He hadn’t been giving his body a whole lot of looks in the mirror recently, especially with the knowledge of how poor he was doing in his not-a-diet. He was ruefully suspicious that he had managed to put on another few pounds since his physical.

Shiro was there, then, pulling Keith in for a kiss. “So beautiful,” he said, mouth leaving Keith’s to kiss along his neck. One of Shiro’s hands was firmly planted over his tummy again, and the other creeped down to his ass and gave it a rough squeeze.

That was one part of his thicker body he was a fan of; he finally had a nice, real ass. Shiro seemed to agree.

They kissed for a while, before they stepped into the warm water. Shiro went back against the stream first, since he really needed it, and Keith was more than happy to slip along Shiro’s side and play with his wet belly.

At least he was looking a bit thicker lately, too. Once the hair on his torso was wet, it was actually easier to see the handful of stretch marks that peppered his belly. Keith traced them with a finger, then let himself give Shiro’s belly a few bounces. It looked lovely in the water, glistening and round and proud.

Shiro finished washing his hair and Keith was grasping at a heavy pec. Keith could still feel the muscle underneath, and the shape and build of Shiro’s body still suggested brute power, but there was no avoiding the thick layer of fat that he’d accumulated all over. He was gorgeous, and Keith felt himself getting worked up, his breathing increasing and pulling himself flush against Shiro. They were both hard now, and Keith could feel Shiro’s cock pushing into his own soft stomach.

Shiro handed him a washcloth, “Would you like to do the honors?”

Keith nodded, welcoming any excuse to feel Shiro up more.

He began lathering Shiro’s chest, savoring the way the flesh gave underneath the cloth. Shiro had a small smile on his face as he leaned his head further back under the hot water and closed his eyes. Taking care of Shiro like this always felt nice, considering it was usually the other way around.

He lifted Shiro’s heavy arms, thick with obvious muscle in addition to fat but the visible definition was all but gone. He got under his arms and stepped closer to wrap his arms around Shiro to get his back, slipping the cloth in the crease that formed above Shiro’s love handles. It had been a while since he could wrap his arms all the way around Shiro with his belly pushing Keith away, but Keith still tried just for the fun of it.

He worked his way down, trying to ignore the way his own dick was throbbing impatiently this close to Shiro, wet and naked. He was thorough before he allowed himself to sink to his knees and run his tongue along the tip of Shiro’s cock. Shiro hissed in surprise and Keith ran his thumb along Shiro’s balls before taking more of Shiro’s length into his mouth.

Since gaining weight, the length of Shiro’s dick hadn’t diminished too much, meaning he was still fairly generous. As Keith moved to take more in his mouth, he was surprised at how little of Shiro he had in his mouth before his forehead bumped into Shiro’s lower belly, stopping him from taking as much as he usually did. He pressed in a little more insistently, but the cost was pushing his nose against Shiro’s gut, too, making it a little tricky to breathe as Keith worked.

A rush of arousal followed and Keith groaned around Shiro’s dick. Thinking about it now, it had been a while since Keith had given Shiro a blow job standing up, and it would appear that his belly had gotten a little too large to make the position as easy as it used to be. It was far from completely covering his bits, but was still undoubtedly in the way.

“Should I-?” Shiro said, and Keith pulled off his dick, looking up at him and panting. Shiro was flushed, but was still definitely aroused as he reached below his belly and held it up, giving Keith more room. A loud moan came from Keith’s lips. He was glad he was already kneeling, because the sight alone made him weak in the knees.

“Yes, daddy, _fuck_ , you’re so fucking hot,” Keith said. Shiro chuckled, a little bashfully, and it turned into a groan as Keith dove back in, licking, sucking and stroking with fervor.

It didn’t take long for Shiro to mutter that he was close, and Keith happily welcomed his seed into his mouth, swallowing easily. From his more promiscuous days, Keith had learned to not be bothered a bit by the bitter flavor of cum. Shiro’s never tasted bad, anyways.

Shiro released his gut then, before Keith had fully pulled off his dick, and it bumped into him again, making him whimper needily.

Keith was shaky with arousal now, and Shiro patted him on the head. “Stand up baby, let me take care of you, too.”

Keith got to his feet, gripping Shiro’s forearms for balance. Shiro pulled him into a kiss once he was standing, uncaring about the taste of himself on Keith’s lips. 

He switched their positions, guiding Keith to stand under the stream of hot water. Shiro gave him another kiss, then began trailing down his neck, trailing down his chest before getting onto his own knees. Instead of taking Keith’s aching dick into his mouth, he pressed his lips to the outward curve of Keith’s tummy.

Keith bit his lip to keep from making a sound and looked down at his stomach, bowed out, plush and soft. Shiro never shied away from touching it and kissing it, but when he pulled some pudge between his teeth and gave it a little nip, Keith arched his back and moaned, another fresh wave of arousal shooting through him. It felt _fantastic_. He had noticed that he was a little more sensitive around his stomach since putting on weight, but this was beyond a _little_.

Encouraged, Shiro continued to give his middle attention, pressing more kisses into it and giving it another good nip. It had Keith squirming, and opening his mouth to beg Shiro to hurry up, when Shiro spoke.

“You look so good like this, baby. So fucking good.”

Keith whimpered, feeling both embarrassed but increasingly aroused. It was obvious what _like this_ meant: soft. Plump.

“Fuck, I just. I love this, baby,” Shiro said.

There was sincerity and a sprinkle of vulnerability in his voice that brought Keith back to earth a little. “Is it, like, the same way I like your-?” Keith stopped himself, not sure how to finish the sentence. Your weight? Your chub? Your _fat_?

Shiro looked up at him, understanding what he was trying to say, pupils wide but genuine. Keith had mentioned it before, that admiring chub was his thing and not Shiro’s, but he hadn’t really thought that Shiro genuinely _might_ like it the same way.

“Maybe,” Shiro responded, “I’m not completely sure. I know I love seeing you look so taken care of. It’s cute when you eat too much and I have to rub your stomach.” Shiro gave him a small, teasing grin as he pressed another kiss to his tummy and said into the plump flesh, “And I like when you sneak snacks and act like I won’t notice.”

Shiro’s words shouldn’t have been hot, but there was no denying that along with the embarrassment pulsing through him, the heat of arousal was every bit as strong. _Stronger_ , even.

It caused Keith to finally start reaching unbearable levels of frustration, making him not care about questioning Shiro further or being petulantly defensive like he usually was on this topic.

Keith begged, “Daddy, just, _please_ , I can’t wait any longer, please, please-”

Shiro was chuckling, “Okay, okay, baby.”

Shiro took Keith’s cock into his mouth with practiced precision, knowing exactly what Keith liked best and bringing him to the edge so fast that Keith’s head was spinning.

“I’m not gonna- I’m not gonna last, daddy, I can’t-”

He came with a stuttering groan, and Shiro milked him through the orgasm, before spitting into the shower drain.

“Get up here,” Keith said, breathless, tugging at Shiro’s shoulders, as if the man wasn’t already getting to his feet.

Keith sagged against him the moment he was standing and wrapped his arms around him, feeling weak and needy and _loved_ , like he so often did after intimacy with Shiro.

Shiro held him easily, wrapping his own arms around Keith’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

They stood like that for a while, until eventually Shiro pointed out they had used a lot of water, Keith called him a mood-killer, and Shiro said he was just trying to be environmentally aware.

They toweled off, and Keith’s eyes caught the scale sitting innocently in the corner of their bathroom. It had been well over three months, nearing four, since they had weighed Shiro last. There was no way he was still 271.

Maybe it was the after effects of Shiro’s words and actions in the shower, but Keith’s mind then wandered to how much weight _he_ had put on. It had been a little over two months since he clocked in at 153.

Shiro eventually noticed Keith’s fixed gaze and followed his eyes, then looked back at him with a smirk. “Somethin’ on your mind, babydoll?”

“Um-” Keith hesitated. Usually he’d shamelessly request Shiro hop on, but now his thoughts had him a little confused.

Shiro gave him a knowing look, grin not faltering, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll get on if you do, too.”

Keith flushed, “That’s not fair.”

Shiro’s grin widened, “Why not?”

“That’s- m-my diet, it hasn’t been that long, so maybe it hasn’t kicked in yet…”

“I’d have to agree with that assessment. Besides,” Shiro’s grin was devilish, “Thought you weren’t on a diet.”

Keith’s dick twitched, already anticipating round two. This wasn’t how this was supposed to work, it was supposed to be Keith lusting after Shiro’s weight gain, not the other way around. But still...he couldn't deny the thumping of his heart and the warmth in his stomach.

Did he really like this end of it, too?

The thought was overwhelming. Keith didn’t want to think about the possibilities and implications of that right now. He pushed the thought away for the time being.

Shiro misread Keith’s silence and stepped closer, tucking a strand of Keith’s black hair behind an ear. “Hey. Is this okay with you? Talking like that? I don’t want to-”

“No!” Keith interrupted, “I mean, _yes_ , it’s okay. I, uh. Maybeilikeit. And besides,” Keith said quickly, sniffing, trying to retain some dignity, “Scales read differently. The day I was 153 at the doctors, maybe the scale here would’ve read higher.”

Shiro’s grin was back with renewed vigor, “Or lower.”

“I’m just _saying_ ,” Keith said, “that if it reads a few pounds higher, that could be why.”

Shiro rubbed his chin with his hand, feigning pensive. “Could be,” he agreed. “Would it help if I got on first?”

Keith nodded, and Shiro walked over and stepped up without hesitation. Keith was right behind him, poking his head around his wide shoulders.

The scale flashed red 0’s, contemplating, before issuing the verdict: 284.

“Fuck,” Keith said, voice hoarse, “fuck, Shiro.”

Shiro gave his belly a pat. “Getting awfully close to 300.”

His belly rippled, and Keith bit his lip, groaning, “You’re so sexy, daddy.” He reached out and gave Shiro’s side a good squeeze.

Shiro hummed, stepping off the scale, giving Keith an appraising look. “It’s your turn, sweetheart.”

Keith swallowed, feeling a confusing combination of dread and excitement mixing in his chest. He stepped onto the scale distrustfully.

It gave the same contemplative 0’s, before dealing Keith his fate: 162.

Keith groaned, but it was at odds with the way his dick chubbed up more and his heart raced. That was almost ten pounds in as many weeks. And he was supposed to have been _dieting_.

“M-Maybe a few pounds are from the scale differences,” Keith croaked.

Shiro splayed his wide hand over Keith’s tummy, rubbing gently like he was so wont to do these days.

“Maybe a few,” he agreed, his voice low and gravelly. Keith was still standing on the scale as Shiro crowded him from behind. Shiro’s belly bumped into Keith’s back, and he felt Shiro’s own dick beginning to harden once more against his ass.

It was going to be one of _these_ days, then. Where they can hardly keep their hands off each other and are in and out of bed all day.

“You’re getting the cutest little belly,” Shiro cooed into his ear, giving the lobe a nip.

“Ah- I don’t have a-a _belly_ ,” Keith protested, leaning against Shiro and bringing a hand up to pull his head closer.

Shiro chuckled against him, the sound deep and reverberating through his chest, “You do. And it’s so sexy, baby.”

Shiro pushed his hand into Keith’s stomach- his _belly_ \- and Keith looked down and watched as his pudge mushed under his hand and puffed out of the gaps where his fingers were spread.

Keith made a little sound of pleasure in his throat, one that ended with a cry as Shiro’s hand gave the pudge of his belly a shake. Heat flooded him as he watched his little tummy jiggle responsively, and the effect went all the way up to his chest where tiny little mounds of extra flesh were forming around his nipples. Since when had that happened?

“Take me to bed,” Keith said breathily, far too horny to be displeased.

Shiro growled appreciatively and plucked Keith off the scale with ease, carrying him bridal-style back into their bedroom.

As long as he wasn’t so heavy that Shiro couldn’t pick him up like this, he would be happy.

_

“I thought you were on a diet.”

Keith jumped in his seat, hand guiltily still in Allura’s bag of popcorn.

“You specifically asked me to keep that away from you, actually,” Allura continued, hands on her hips as she walked back into the living room from the bathroom.

They were at Keith and Shiro’s place this time, under the guise of studying for finals, but they were mostly just lounging on the couch on their phones, gossiping about work and school. Allura had brought a bag of white cheddar popcorn that she was absently munching on. Keith had indeed told her to keep it away from him, but he had been regretting that decision more and more as time went on.

His attempts at dieting were still existent, technically, but also still in decline. He didn’t protest much about the semantics of the word anymore; in fact, he encouraged it in hopes it would reignite his desire to actually diet (it didn’t).

When he still didn’t respond, just slowly raised his hand to his mouth and dropped a few pieces of popcorn in, she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know why you even bother with your diet anymore. You seem like you hate it, and you’re cuter chubby anyways.”

He narrowed his eyes at her as she sat back down on the couch. “I’m not _chubby_.”

She was grinning, and looked him up and down. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Her words are said with mirth and besides, Allura and Keith had been through enough together that they were more open and honest with each other than they were with almost anyone else.

Keith grumbled, out of principle, and Allura sat back against the couch and folded her arms, still looking at Keith, making it clear she was more interested in this conversation than studying or being on her phone.

“Does being chubby really bother you that much? I’m not just trying to flatter you, you really do look fine. You look _good_.”

Keith sighed and leaned back as well. His stomach (his _belly_ , as Shiro pointed out) rounded out against his shirt, plump even though it was more or less empty. “Ugh. I don’t know. I guess I don’t really mind how I look. Clothes getting tight is annoying. I guess it’s more…”

It felt stupid to say aloud. He realized recently what was probably getting to him about his body, but it felt like something he should’ve gotten past by now.

Allura, because she knew _him_ , understood. She grabbed her own handful of popcorn from the bag and asked, “Is it, like, a control thing? Like a ‘letting go and getting comfortable’ thing?”

He stiffened a little, feeling found out, but relaxed when Allura made a little pensive, understanding noise.

“I guess I first got skinny when my dad died,” Keith said softly, “I mean, it’s not like I was big before that, but, like, a regular kid.” But when he died, and Keith was a fifteen-year-old trying to take care of himself, “Honestly it was easier to just skip meals. And I think I kinda liked the way. I liked the way I looked. It felt like it matched how I felt inside.” Starved and isolated but surviving, like a lone wolf.

“And you have someone taking care of you now,” Allura said softly.

Keith sighed, “Which is really nice. I’m grateful for it, you know? Like, I’m not the same spiteful, angry fifteen-year-old kid anymore, so I’m glad I have someone watching out for me. I’m not _trying_ to be dramatic. But letting go like this, it’s just a little…”

“Overwhelming? Intimidating?”

“Yeah, both, I guess.” He had been enjoying it hugely, just relaxing and letting go with Shiro, but something in him was still scared to let go of the last vestiges of that spiteful fifteen-year-old boy.

Allura hummed, “Well. If I can speak frankly…”

“When have you ever _not_.”

“I don’t really think you tried all that hard at your diet.”

Upon Keith’s sour look, she continued, “Don’t look at me like that, let me explain what I mean. I mean that if you ever _actually_ wanted to lose weight, you’d let Shiro hide the snacks. You’d ask him to cook healthier meals. You’d actually go to the gym. And I don’t have a doubt in my mind that you’d have the conviction to do it, and _really_ do it. You have a wonderful, supportive partner who would hold you accountable if you asked him to. Do you get what I’m saying?”

He kind of did, but his instinct was still to be more defensive than not. “That I didn’t try hard enough.” he stated dryly.

Allura was unphased and waved her hand in the air, “Yes and no. It’s more like, if you ever _really, truly_ want to lose weight, I have no doubts you can. It just doesn’t really seem like you actually want to right now.”

Keith chewed his lip. “But then, what? Just let myself get fat in the meantime?”

Allura rolled her eyes, “Or actually get serious about dieting. But, yeah, as long as you’re healthy, why not?”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Allura hummed. “What does Shiro think?”

Keith can’t help but snort. “Yeah, uh. He’s got no problems with it.”

Allura smiled devilishly, “You kinky things.”

Keith grabbed another handful of popcorn, “Shut up.”

The door to the apartment clicked then, and Shiro’s wide frame entered. He looked good, clad in in a navy suit with a white button-up underneath. The button-up fit well, but Keith knew for a fact that the suit he was wearing was growing snug. It was subtle when the jacket was unbuttoned, like it was now, so he was doubtful anyone would even notice the way his trousers pinched his sides like Keith did. He had trimmed his beard recently, and he looked clean-cut, powerful, and _big_.

Then he smiled at them, and Keith felt the way his own face melted into a stupidly happy smile, too.

“Allura,” Shiro said, smiling at her as he walked over and gave Keith a kiss on the top of his head in a way of greeting, “It’s nice to see you, as always. How’s Chris?”

Allura chuckled, “Long gone, actually. Broke up with him like two months ago.”

“I told you that,” Keith said, leaning his head back to look at Shiro.

Shiro scratched the back of his head, chuckling and looking guilty, “Did you? Ah, sorry.”

Allura was still smiling, “It’s fine. I didn’t like him that much anyway. I’ll just keep being envious of you two and your romance-novel, poetry level love.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but felt every bit as pleased as Shiro looked.

Allura snatched her bag of popcorn from Keith, who hadn’t even realized he had picked it back up and begun munching away. She peered inside to see it mostly empty and gave him a look, to which he only smiled and shrugged.

She looked up at Shiro, “Your boyfriend’s dangerous around snacks.”

That had Keith sputtering, and Shiro laughed, loud, booming and genuine.

“He is, isn’t he?” He agreed, ignoring Keith’s indignant, “Hey!”

“Would you like to stay for dinner, Allura? You’re more than welcome.”

“That’s okay, my shift at the bar starts soon, so I’m gonna head out. Thank you, though, and we should do dinner soon!”

Allura left with a few more pleasantries, and she had also left the bag of popcorn on Keith’s lap for him to finish.

“Don’t spoil your appetite,” Shiro said, walking back over to Keith and kissing him on the forehead.

Keith snorted, “You know I won’t.”

Shiro smiled knowingly and moved to walk to the bedroom to do his usual routine of changing into something more comfortable and then cooking dinner.

“I- um…” Keith started, and Shiro stopped, looking back at him curiously.

Keith sighed and started over, “I’m done with my diet, I think.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows, “Oh. Okay.”

Keith felt himself frown, “I mean, it’s not like it was working anyways.”

Shiro hummed and walked over to sit down next to Keith. Keith discarded the empty popcorn bag on the table and shifted closer to Shiro, who opened his arms.

“Are you sure, baby?” Shiro asked, “You know I love you no matter what. I just want you to be happy.”

Keith smiled, but still gave a heavy sigh, “Yeah, but apparently what makes me happy right now is eating, so.”

Shiro chuckled and gave Keith’s black locks a soothing pet. Keith’s hands moved to Shiro’s belly, because it was right there, practically in his own lap, round and heavy and surging over his waistband.

They sat in silence for a minute and Keith continued fiddling, eventually tugging Shiro’s shirt from his trousers to get his long fingers under his shirt and onto Shiro’s bare gut.

“What’s for dinner?” Keith can’t help asking. He cranes his head back to look up at Shiro and is met with that painfully earnest and happy smile Shiro gives him sometimes. It makes his heart melt every time.

“I don’t know,” Shiro mused, “We’re running low on most stuff. I should’ve stopped at the grocery store today, but I was feeling too lazy.”

Keith hummed, “We should order out, then.”

Shiro’s eyes were twinkling with the promise of take out, and Keith wondered if he wore a similar expression. He felt like he probably did.

“What should we get?” Shiro asked him, putting a hand on his soft hip to pull him closer.

Keith was pickier than Shiro, so the choice really was his. Shiro would be happy with just about anything. But Keith was feeling simple, “Pizza?”

Shiro’s smile never left his face, and he continued to look at Keith adoringly, “Sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Just noting: I don't want to make it seem like anemia is always so simple as to be cured by eating more or taking supplements. It's worth noting that it manifests differently in different people, and to varying degrees. (I'm actually anemic myself!)
> 
> (Also I was trying to keep Keith's weight gain fairly realistic, but I also can't help but think he's just not big enough yet...also I gave Shiro 25K words and Keith only got 12K so there might be more of this to come, no promises but I'm feeling the itch to write more of this)
> 
> Comments and kudos are very appreciated!
> 
> Follow me on [ tumblr ](https://akranes-jlc.tumblr.com)!


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